BP Unfiltered

Overture: as I look over at the MLB network set on my left, I see that Peter Gammons has moved over to make room for Harold Reynolds. No matter how far you run, Peter, you cannot get away.

As Satchel Paige noted, the social ramble ain't restful. If the purpose of these meetings is for general managers to meet and make deals, they fail woefully. There is also a great deal of redundancy in the media coverage: the same stories echo and repeat and there is no utility to it. Realistically, John Heyman and Ken Rosenthal could be sent here by subscription and the rest of us could stay home and follow them on Twitter.

Intermission: as I type these words, Jose Reyes is being introduced as a member of the Miami Marlins, AKA the Team Nobody Could Love (Because They Don't Deserve It). I had wondered if Reyes would get a haircut for the occasion. A: Are you kidding? The Marlins are the essence of screw-you capitalism. They are far from unique in this, but that doesn't mean I have to like them or fall for the sucker punch that is their current ostentatious build-up, a shopping spree that cannot and will not be sustained. On a pure baseball level, however, I am impressed by their resolve to not be satisfied with Hanley Ramirez's defense at shortstop. I also wonder at the apparent lack of communication with Ramirez, although perhaps that was purposeful.

On a similar note, Jim Bowden just asked Reyes if he had reached out to Ramirez. Reyes: “We have not had time to talk yet.” Jose, when you are about to take someone's job, the classy thing to do is to reach out and give them a heads up, maybe ask them how they might feel about that.

Back to the social ramble: As you can see from the picture at right, the real purpose of these meetings is to forge relationships. The crowd depicted includes writers, broadcasters, job-seekers, scouts, managers, and general managers (the latter two fleetingly for the most part). They are talking, laughing, and drinking—mostly drinking—together, and the connections they forge here will facilitate communication within and around the game for the next year. That is the whole purpose, and has been for as long as baseball has had winter meetings—look at old issues of The Sporting News and you can see these same pictures, albeit on a smaller scale and populated by men now in the Hall of Fame (and, I imagine, a lot fewer women, more's the pity).

Note: John Heymanapproacheth. He is tweeting things, resplendent in his spectacles.

Finale: Last night, the Mets picked up two relievers and this morning the Padres acquired Huston Street for a player to be named later, possibly Canal Street or Tenth Avenue. It seems as if when these meetings are not consumed with Albert Pujols—and kids, the impossible has happened, Pujols is now an overrated player—they are obsessed with closers. As I get older, crankier, and ever more attractive, I am becoming increasingly disgusted with the Cult of the Closer. I venerate Mariano Rivera as much as any baseball fan should, but damn it, we're talking about 60 innings a year out of a total of 1450. I don't care how important you think those innings are, that is four percent of the total. Four. Percent. The obsessive focus on the ninth inning is purely psychological; a team can lose games in any other inning, and often do, in part because they're devoting a disproportionate amount of resources to this almost entirely fictional Cadillac role.

Steven Goldman is an author of Baseball Prospectus. Click here to see Steven's other articles.
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I think there are 2 things that are commonly ignored when comparing starter salaries to relief pitchers. One, as Steven refereed to but quickly discounted, is that some relief pitchers pitch more "important" innings. Not having data in front of me, I would assume that in games where closer play, they (on average) pitch against the tougher hitters than any other inning save for the first inning. From a win expectation standpoint, a closer's 60 innings is more important than 60 typical innings of a starter (how much is up for debate). Second, the length of a star relief pitcher's contract is significantly less than a starters. CJ Wilson might sign a 5 yr contract that pays him $20 mil / year. That does not mean he is earning 20 mil during his first year. More likely, the team is paying him 40, 30, 20, 5, 5 for his performance in years 1, 2, 3, 4, 5 (or something similar). Because a relief pitcher's contract is typically for 2-3 years, the annual amount seems higher because there are fewer bad years to average out the annual salary. If Wilson signed a 1 year contract, I bet it would be for >$30. In that context, I think Heath Bell's contract is aligned well with the market.

I have a theory on that. The very inefficiency that bugs us also saves these guys arms arms a lot of wear and tear. So they are able to perform a lot more consistently than relievers that are called on more often. And as BP has highlighted in the past, saving your closer for the "save" often calls on them to face the bottom of the order, allowing them to pad their stats and appear more competent than a reliever that was being used optimally against the leagues best hitters in clutch situations (as I assume we BP'ers, would like to see.) So this usage pattern allows lesser pitchers to acquire a veneer of "closer mentality". Combine that with managers that are afraid to be risk takers and you practically grow the modern closer by natural selection. Give that guy a couple of seasons soaking saves for a bad team (Heath Bell?) and suddenly he's a brand name product, "Proven Closer"

The players have to see how this works, which is why they hate not having "established roles" or whatever.

In one of those delicious bits of irony, Tony La Russa, of all people, went at least partially with the best-pitcher-available model for much of the season. Sure, he always had a designated "closer." For much of the year, that closer was not the best pitcher available, and he'd run firemen out there who were better. And the flip side was that his use of his closer du jour was not always for the routine 9th-inning save; even after Jason Motte inherited the closer's mantle in late August, he continued to get called on in non-save, or at least non-9th-inning, situations.

Therein lies a lesson, I think. Once he finally wised up and defenestrated Ryan Franklin, Miguel Batista, etc., the Cardinals had a remarkably deep and capable bullpen that would allow good relievers to be used in just about any setting. And once he had that weapon, he used it. Stockpiling effective firemen had much to do with getting the Cardinals to the post season, even as the nominal "closer" position continued to exist.

The Red Sox also went with a closer-by-committee for a brief period early in Theo's reign ago and caught a lot of flak for it.. not just from the media but from the pitchers who were no longer sure when they needed to warm up to enter the game.

Disagree on Jose Reyes. That's all on Florida as an organization to contact Hanley and iron out the details. Typical of Loria that he failed to do this. That's not Reyes' responsibility; he's a shortstop and he was hired to be a shortstop.

Agree on the Marlins as a franchise, though. And they will trade Reyes to the Yankees in a few years once Derek Jeter is done.

Ramirez didn't even lose his job. He's still an everyday position player for the Marlins and not getting paid any differently. It's sort of like a cop going to a new beat; the job description isn't really that different, you're just in a slightly different place.

Anyone can just waltz right in. You wouldn't have access to some media events and other functions, but the lobby crowd where much of the talking is done is completely free.

There is a job fair for internships that requires registration, but otherwise there are many people who just come on their own and hang out with the crowd. I even saw a couple kids there looking for autographs.